As Long As There's Cake Page 14

  “Hi, Chief,” Jason said, shifting his bulk in his chair. “Nothing to report. She hasn’t said a word all night. Sticking to that whole, I-want-a-lawyer thing.”

  Cookie was struck by how much bluster had gone out of Mara since yesterday. A night in a jail cell would likely do that to anyone. She looked like she was ready to do anything to be on the other side of those steel bars again. She looked, actually, like she wanted to wake up to find that all of this was just a dream.

  In short, she looked like she was ready to talk.

  “Hello, Mara,” Cookie said to her. She set her purse on Jason’s desk and folded her hands in front of her skirt. “I’m sorry to have to see you in here.”

  Mara’s lip twisted to one side. “No you aren’t. You always enjoy a good mystery, Cookie Williams. Everyone knows that about you.”

  “That’s true,” she agreed with a nod, finally all right with admitting it to herself. She liked mysteries. This one included. “Although, I suppose I should say that is only partly true.”

  Mara lifted her eyes and met Cookie’s gaze defiantly. “Oh? Is that so? And what part of it isn’t true, hmm?”

  “Well, I do enjoy a good mystery. That part’s true. But, my name isn’t Williams any more. I’m a married woman now. Stansted is my legal last name.”

  With a scoff, Mara shook her hand in Jerry’s direction. “I know. You married the police chief. That’s the only reason you’re here, after all. It’s not like you could have this sort of access to the police station without him, right? So. Are you and him are going to tag team me? Is there a rubber hose somewhere that you can use to beat a confession out of me?”

  Jerry actually chuckled at that, but so quietly that Cookie was sure only she heard it. He must have heard that very same joke dozens of times before in his career, and even though it wasn’t funny, the idea that people kept throwing it in his face must be a source of amusement for him. Jerry would be the last person on Earth to use such a tactic. He never needed to.

  “Jason, you can take a break now,” he told his officer.

  The portly officer looked confused. “You don’t want me to stay, Chief? I mean, I can stay and act as a witness.”

  “There’s cameras back here,” Jerry reminded him. “If anything needs to be witnessed, it will all be on the recording and we can watch it over and over until we’ve witnessed it to death. In the meantime, take a break.”

  When Jason still hesitated, Jerry switched tactics. “Tell you what. Why don’t you go and give Patrick some help in finishing up the paperwork? I have a feeling there’s some things he hasn’t finished and he’s just not telling me.”

  “Heh. That sounds like Patrick. The man can’t make a decision to save his life.” He seemed to realize how that sounded after he stepped out from behind the desk. His face pinched up and he searched for a way to walk back his words. “Uh, I mean, he knows what he’s doing, he just doesn’t always know what way to do it.”

  Cookie hid a smile behind her hand. That really didn’t make it sound much better.

  “I know what you mean, Jason.” Jerry slapped him on the shoulder. “Just go help Patrick, okay?”

  “Will do, Chief.”

  When he was gone, Mara stood up, leaning against the bars. “You’ve got quite the group of people working here, Jerry. Between Patrick with his fancy mustache and that guy there and your wife here, it’s like watching a circus.”

  “I’m glad you’re in a talkative mood,” Jerry told her. “Cookie and I have a few things to say. I know you said you want an attorney, so I won’t ask you any questions, but I do have a few things to say. All you have to do is stand there and listen.”

  Mara shrugged. “It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

  “You’re in big trouble, Mara,” Jerry told her. “That bag of money in your locked cabinet pretty much convicts you of being involved in that robbery. Put that together with Jonathan Graham’s information about a conspirator working with the bank robber, and I doubt there’s a jury in this state that wouldn’t convict you.”

  She wrapped her hands around the bars and lowered her head against the cold metal. “I told you I was innocent, but you don’t want to listen.”

  “We are listening,” Cookie told her. “We’re here to listen to what you have to say but you have to tell us the truth.”

  “The truth,” she snorted. “Like the truth matters at all.”

  “It does. The truth always matters.”

  “Whatever. I’m not talking to you without a lawyer. Not to him with his badge, or to you with your lies about being my friend, Cookie. How’s that for the truth?”

  Those words stung Cookie a little bit. She couldn’t deny that it hurt to hear someone categorize her trying to help as a lie. Solving mysteries wasn’t a way for her to meddle in people’s lives. It was a way for her to help. She ignored what Mara said, however. People were going to think whatever they wanted to. Especially, she added to herself, when emotions were running as hot and as high as Mara’s were at the moment.

  So she smiled again, and kept talking.

  “What got me to thinking,” she told Mara, “was how you knew the robber used a backpack. Do you remember how you said that when I was there to have my hair done? You did a good job, by the way. Thank you for that.”

  “Well I’m glad I could do something to help you out.”

  “I am, too.” She smiled at Mara, standing there in a jail cell, angry and discouraged. “You are a very important part of our community here in Widow’s Rest. You’re a small business owner, just like I am. Now that we found you with that backpack of stolen money, you might lose it all. I couldn’t understand why you would do that.”

  Mara shook her head, again, and closed her eyes.

  “I also couldn’t understand,” Cookie continued, “why you would have kept a little of the money after all these years. Or rather, I don’t understand how you were able to save any of it at all. The hair salon you built onto your house certainly didn’t come cheap. I know what it costs to run a business, and I certainly could have used a windfall from a bank robbery several times over the years. I’m not sure I could have saved any of that cash at all.”

  She chuckled as she said it, thinking about how true that was. Once upon a time she’d thought there was a fortune buried under her bakery, and it certainly would have been nice to have that in hand after all those years when money was so very tight. She always made enough to live on, and she enjoyed the work, but who wouldn’t mind a quick influx of cash? Certainly not her, and certainly not other business workers like Mara.

  It almost made an argument for why someone would think stealing was worth the trouble it caused. Almost.

  “I think what Cookie is saying,” Jerry added, “is that no one would blame you for using all that money for yourself, we just can’t figure out how you had anything at all left over—”

  “That money isn’t mine!” Mara shouted abruptly, slamming her fists against the bars and making them ring with a hollow bong in the small space. “I keep telling you, over and over, it isn’t mine. My mother paid to build that salon for me. I paid her back over several years and to tell you the truth, Cookie, when she died, I still owed her a few thousand dollars. Can you imagine how that feels for me, knowing that she went to her grave without me being able to pay her back? Don’t you talk to me about what money I have or don’t have because it was my mother who made all that possible!”

  Cookie and Jerry watched her, waiting for her angry monologue to be over. This was more information than Jerry had gotten last night, and Cookie understood that this was one of the reasons why he wanted her to be with him this morning. Not just because this had been her idea. More than that, he knew she could get Mara talking.

  And, what they had just heard made sense. It was exactly what Cookie had expected her to say. On their way over here this morning, they had discussed what they knew, and this fit in with all the facts. The money for the salon had come from Mara’s mother, Rosa
lyn Fobare. She’d been the one to stay in the bank vault when the robbery occurred. She’d been the only one with a perfectly legitimate reason for not being able to identify the robber.

  She was the only one of the three people in the bank that day who was now deceased, meaning there was no way to interrogate her about the money.

  The same money that had been found in Mara’s home.

  At a casino in Atlantic City, it would have been a safe bet that Rosalyn was the robber’s accomplice.

  Cookie had never been much for gambling. She preferred a sure thing.

  They heard Officer Loretta Hill coming down the hallway behind them, and a man’s voice talking with her. Cookie recognized that voice. It was the man that Jerry had asked Loretta to go and pick up earlier, when he and Cookie had first arrived here at the station. This was the last piece of the puzzle. Now they just had to see how it fit.

  He was a blocky man, five-foot-ten and built like one of those Lego brick men. Square chest, square jaw, blocky arms and overlarge hands. Eyes the color of coal held no humor even as he smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Mister Jonathan Graham joined them down by the holding cells. His smile faded when he saw Jerry, and Cookie, and Mara all looking at him. “Uh…” he started. “What’s going on? Officer Hill just said you wanted to see me about some paperwork, Chief Stansted. She didn’t say anything about a party. What’s all this?”

  “This is a simple question and answer session,” Jerry told him. “It won’t take long at all.”

  Mara bristled behind the bars. “I told you I’m not answering any questions without a lawyer with me.”

  “And that’s your right,” Jerry agreed. “But Mister Graham here isn’t in my custody, and he really wants to keep himself out of Federal custody, per the terms of the agreement he’s signed, so I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to answer some questions. Isn’t that right, Mister Graham?”

  Jonathan blinked, and stuttered an answer as he stuffed his big hands in his pockets. “Uh, I mean, sure. Whatever you need, Chief. I’m… I’m here to help. Anything to keep myself out of prison.”

  “Good,” Jerry said brightly. “Then I’ve got just one question for you. How is it that you knew the backpack was in Mara’s house?”

  “That’s all? Well, that’s easy.” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly relieved that this was the one question Jerry wanted to ask. “It’s just a little embarrassing, is all. I was breaking into people’s houses for about a week, so I could have somewhere to sleep. My girlfriend kicked me out, you see. I needed a place to crash. So, I went into people’s homes and slept there for the night, then moved on to somewhere else. I only did it when people weren’t home, so’s there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings. Mara’s place was one of those homes I broke into. So when I was in there, I saw the backpack. I’m sorry, Mara, but it’s just how it is.”

  Jerry nodded his head along with the explanation. “I see, I see. Okay. Well, I guess that actually raises one more question.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “How did you know that the backpack was the same one from the robbery? I mean, you see a backpack full of cash. It’s in a locked cabinet, which you must have unlocked with some type of lockpick—”

  “Now, that would be covered under my deal, right?” Jonathan was quick to ask. “Any and all crimes related to the break ins, that’s what you said, right?”

  “Oh, sure. Anything related to the break ins, I won’t bother you about. So. You open the cabinet and you see the backpack. Is that how it happened?”

  “Just like that. Saw the money inside, and I knew that robbery was big news and you guys would be willing to give me anything I asked for if I could tell you about that. I kept it for a rainy day, and when I got arrested I knew it was time to use it.”

  “You didn’t think the money would be worth more?” Jerry asked him.

  “Er… what now?”

  Jerry shrugged at him. “I mean, not only did you not take the money with you, but you identified the backpack as the same one from a decades old robbery. I have to tell you, Mister Graham, I’m good at my job but I’m really sure that even I couldn’t have made that leap.”

  Cookie smiled when he looked frantically in her direction. This was the point that they had all missed until yesterday. Sure, it was completely believable that Jonathan had slipped into Mara’s house, since he’d already confessed to doing that all over town. It might even be believable that he picked a locked cabinet to see what was inside and found a backpack full of cash. It stretched things to believe he would leave the cash there, but stranger things had happened, and he did have this whole story about wanting to use what he’d found later if it would get him out of trouble.

  What made no sense, the one piece in the whole puzzle that could not be made to fit, was how in the world he could have known just by looking that the backpack was the same one from the famous Widow’s Rest bank robbery. Especially since none of the actual witnesses had mentioned the type of bag the robber used.

  There was only one reason why Mister Jonathan Graham could know what that backpack was. Now they were getting to the real mystery. The one they hadn’t seen until Cookie pieced it together last night.

  She turned back to Mara. “You reported Jonathan’s break in to your shop the very night that he was there. That’s because you came home while he was still there. You already told me that you stay home every night. Oh, you go out Saturdays but even then, you come straight home. You said you felt trapped in this town. You’re always at home. So, when he went into your place thinking it was empty, you were only out for a bit and when you came back, he had to leave in a hurry or risk getting caught. He didn’t have time to get all of his things. Including a backpack with a lot of money in it.”

  It was hard to tell who was more surprised by that revelation, Mara or Jonathan Graham himself. Cookie had pieced it together from all the things she’d learned during this mystery but even then, she had almost missed it. Jonathan didn’t find the backpack in Mara’s locked cabinet. He’d brought the backpack there in the first place.

  Mara’s face flushed, deep red coloring her cheeks, even as her knuckles turned white from gripping the bars. “I told you my mother wasn’t a part of that robbery. I told you so.”

  “Yes, you did,” Cookie agreed. “And, you were right. She gave you the money to build your shop, but it was from her own savings. I’m sure you were paying her back a little at a time, just like you said. Neither of you had large sums of cash to throw around. No. That backpack was never yours.”

  “You knew?” Mara asked, barely above a whisper. “You knew I was telling the truth?”

  Cookie nodded. “I did, although I’m ashamed to say I didn’t at first. You told us that the thief used a backpack when he robbed the Northern Adirondack Savings Bank. Jonathan Graham used the same term when he talked to the police. We didn’t understand how that could be possible, since none of the official reports listed a backpack, and that truly did make you sound guilty.”

  Mara rapped the bars in front of her face. “Which is why I’m here.”

  “Yes. But now, Jerry and I understand. You found a backpack with money left behind in your shop after a break in. You reported the break in to the police, but not the cash. You thought it was a windfall for you. You only realized it was the backpack from the robbery after I was there, asking about that day twenty-five years ago. You put it together quicker than we did, actually, and that’s how you knew the robber used a backpack. You suddenly knew exactly where all that cash came from. You weren’t involved in the actual robbery at all. No, dear. You’re innocent of everything, except a silly mistake.”

  “Well,” Jerry said, clearing his throat. “More than a little mistake. You tried to keep money you knew wasn’t yours without reporting it. Then you hid a bunch of stolen money. You could have saved us all a lot of hassle if you had just called the police.”

  Mara’s grip eased up a little. �
�I was afraid. I was scared that whoever left the money there would come back for it. For me. I had to hide it. I swear, I didn’t know where it came from. Not at first.”

  “But we know who left it there now, don’t we?” Cookie smiled at her.

  Every eye in the room turned to Mister Jonathan Graham.

  “Whoa now,” he said to them, shoving his hands at the air like he could push away their accusations. “No way. There’s no way you can say I had that money with me. I saw it in her place. That’s all it was. It’s like you said, I left the money there because I was going to need an ace in the hole if I got caught. And see? Worked out, didn’t it?”

  Cookie shook her head at him. “You had it with you when you broke into Mara’s home. There’s no way you could know it was from a bank robbery just by looking at it. Besides. Jerry is going to have the bag and the money dusted for fingerprints. Are you going to be able to explain why your prints are on the inside of the bag? On every single piece of money? Hmm?”

  The way Graham’s eyes widened, Cookie was sure they were going to pop out of his skull. He knew he was trapped. The evidence would hang him no matter what he said. There was no way he could have gotten that many fingerprints all over the backpack just from seeing it for a few minutes at Mara’s shop. Fingerprints didn’t lie.

  Too bad he didn’t know Cookie was making it all up.

  Oh, she had no doubt that Jerry would send the backpack in and have both it and the cash tested for fingerprints. She also had no doubt that if he did that, they would find some of Graham’s fingerprints inside. However, the thing about fingerprints, which she had learned from being around Jerry, was that they weren’t as easy to find as television made it look. They were nearly impossible to lift off canvas, for instance. So what they would actually find on the backpack and the money once it was processed at a crime lab… might be very little.